Myths Reawakened-Chapter 244 (2): Try, Die

“There are mandrills in Ostarrichi? That can’t be right...”

The more Wayne thought about it, the stranger it seemed. He examined the colorful primate before him carefully and was shocked to discover that it had a Nature Domain similar to his. It blended into the surroundings perfectly like an unremarkable plant. Without looking at the mandrill with his eyes, he wouldn’t have detected it.

“As expected of the headquarters of the Church of Nature, even a monkey here is terrifyingly talented,” Wayne grumbled. That was a blow to his pride. He schooled his expression and asked tentatively, “High Prophet?”

Correct answer!

The mandrill rose to a standing posture with the glint of intelligence in its eyes. Its aura transformed dramatically, resembling a learned sage after shedding its wild nature.

“Candidate Wayne, a pleasure to meet you. I’m the High Prophet of the Church of Nature. You may call me Tubert.” The mandrill spoke in human language.

“Tube—High Prophet Tubert. I’m honored to meet you at my doorstep.” Wayne believed the mandrill was a magical creature that served a similar purpose to a messenger bird. While others kept pigeons and owls, the High Prophet kept a primate and attached his thoughts to it with magic.

“I was delayed on the way here. You must have met with Oracle High Reverend Senna.”

The mandrill sounded resigned. “Your master is Oracle High Reverend Senna’s student, so it stands to reason that you’ll have more trust for her than for me. That’s my disadvantage. However, I hope you’ll remember what I’m going to say and think carefully about who truly has your best interest at heart.”

That’ll be a waste of our time. Neither of you is a good person.

“High Prophet Tubert, I’m deeply honored to receive your teachings,” Wayne said politely. “Please go on.”

The mandrill seemed pressed for time and rattled off the High Prophet’s authority, duties, and importance to the church, cherry-picking only the positives in an attempt to make the job post desirable to Wayne. Then the mandrill brought up their shared talent in communicating with nature, stating that Wayne still had untapped potential.

Senna could not help him with that, but Tubert could. With his guidance, Wayne could not only perfectly realize his full potential but also communicate with the gods and learn the divine art to predict the future.

Finally, the mandrill said, “Some time ago, I provided information about the Corridor of Nightmare to the two candidates from the Franc district, helping you pass the test. It was no coincidence. I intended you to have the information from the start.”

That caught Wayne off guard. He wondered what Tubert was going to say.

“I have a friend in Windsor who contacted me recently and asked me to help you become the Anointed One. His name is Planck.”

You’re that old man’s friend? 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Wayne couldn’t believe it. Was Planck so bold because he was a mole for the Church of Nature? On second thought, though, he remembered that the Windsor Ministry of Magic was full of fence sitters. While they all pledged allegiance to the Queen, they were each working for their own benefits. Planck wasn’t necessarily a mole planted by the Church of Nature, but the church was definitely one of his backup plans.

“Director Planck was being unreasonable. I’m never going to become the Anointed One. It’s simply not part of the church’s tradition.”

“It has nothing to do with talent and everything to do with your sex. Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s not your fault,” the mandrill assured, not sparing praise. “You have the perfect talent for High Prophet, Wayne. If you become one, you’ll surely be able to see the future and become a genuine prophet.”

When Wayne didn’t react, the mandrill continued, “I don’t want to speak ill of Oracle High Reverend Senna, but she is a coldhearted, ruthless woman. Don’t let her use you, and don’t let her guilt-trip you with her tie to your master. Think about your master, and you’ll see that I’m not lying.”

Wayne remained silent, his expression impassive.

The mandrill pondered for a moment and wisely tackled the issue from another angle, “The legacy of the High Prophet is inseparable from nature. You can’t master the essence on your own. Right now, you can only communicate with part of nature, specifically the plants. You are not yet communicating with all of nature.”

“Can High Prophet Tubert do it?” Wayne showed interest. They were finally getting to the point.

“I can’t due to my limited talent, but you can. You have only been unable to do it because you have no guidance.” The mandrill gave Wayne a pointed look. “You must be wondering why you’re still missing something when you’ve become an elf who perfectly merges with nature.”

“What is it?” Wayne’s eyes lit up. The question had been troubling him for a long time.

The mandrill smiled like a human. “I can’t tell you, Wayne. It involves the High Prophet’s legacy, only passed down to future High Prophets.”

If you want the answer, come to the Prophet Sanctuary. I’ve left everything there!

Under Wayne’s judgmental gaze, the mandrill brought up a few more tempting topics, always scratching the surface and never going in depth to give him the satisfaction.

Yes, it’s all related to the legacy, so I can’t tell you. If you want to learn, come to the sanctuary, and I’ll teach you!

The mandrill tempted Wayne for five minutes and then dispelled its merged state with nature, reverting to an ordinary animal. Before Tubert’s thoughts faded, he left Wayne with a final message: “Think carefully about what Senna can give you, the kind of person she is, what I can give you, and what you truly desire.”

Tubert left. He hoped that the next time they met, Wayne would no longer stay expressionless.

“What a troublesome bunch...”

Wayne’s impression of the higher-ups at headquarters plummeted. It hadn’t been that good before, but his score for them was now in the negatives. He wished he could transform into the Nature Knight and mow them down. His dream of making his master the Pope was also shattered.

If Silvia came to headquarters, she would eventually become just like Senna. On that day, the Lando family would fall apart.

He abandoned his fantasy about explaining the script to the Holy Maiden at night due to the high price. He would rather do that with Veronica and, ideally, have Kristen and Vera listen in and join the act.

He would have a trio then. Why would he want a Holy Maiden?

***

Church of Nature headquarters.

An unknown space hidden in the gap between the Chosen Land and the Astral Plane housed multiple portals obscured by clouds and mist, invisible from the mortal realm. The place’s name was a mystery, and its location similarly unknowable.

Here, mountain ranges rose and fell like a breathtaking scroll unfurling. The picturesque, dreamlike scenery was so spectacular that one couldn’t bear to walk away from it. It also separated the Great Universe and the Chosen Land, forming a barrier between them.

Ancient trees reached toward the sky in the mountainous forests, lush and verdant, embodying nature’s vitality and vigor. The dreamscape wasn’t only green, but also rolling seas of clouds and passing breezes, encompassed by the concept of nature.

Yes, nature was a concept, encompassing something as small as a single blade of grass and something as vast as the entirety of the world, even the sun, moon, and stars. One might even make the bold claim that day and night were also included, and so was death.

Climbing to the mountain peak and looking down, one would see a magnificent complex of architecture. Row upon row of churches, large and small, formed a city that stretched to the distance. And with a city came the distinctions between the city center and the suburbs. On a remote mountain in the suburbs, a white palace stood in its solitary majesty.

It could be aloof and above worldly conflicts, or it could be alienated.

It was the Prophet Sanctuary!

In the green garden in the back of the main hall, a massive tree canopy stretched like an umbrella. Among the dappled shadows, larks hopped and chirped.

Two young men in white robes scattered bird feed under the tree. With their tranquil presence becoming one with nature, the larks considered them companions and frolicked playfully around them. The two men were gentle and graceful, their handsome facial features on the soft side with gentle lines, making them seem like easygoing and honest people.

They were Virgil and Cerci, the High Prophet’s two students.

Flutter!

A lark descended with an envelope, landing between the two, hopping around like it was asking for a reward. Unhurried, Virgil took the envelope and gave the bird more feed. After opening the envelope, though, his expression gradually darkened.

“Virgil, what prophecy did you see this time?” Cerci cheerfully approached and browsed the letter. His smile crumbling, he blurted out, “Who is Wayne, and where did he come from? Did Master truly seek him out?”

The walls had eyes and ears. Even when there wasn’t any, someone would make them with a chisel. The letter was no different from a lightning bolt, dismissing the years of effort Virgil and Cerci had put in. Their moods hit rock bottom. Their emotional swings prevented them from maintaining their inner balance, and the larks escaped in fright, their chirping sounding like accusations.

“Virgil, let’s find Master.”

“No. The letter came out of nowhere and deliberately threw our thoughts off...” Virgil suppressed his grievances and said coolly. “Besides, if Master has made his choice, we are in no place to object. Everything is fated.”

Fated my ass. How many prophecies are actually real? Don’t you know that well?

Fate should be fought for. It’s not predestined!

Cerci scoffed. His long white robe fluttered as he strode toward the main hall. He wanted the truth from Master. A hundred years of waiting had to amount to something.

Virgil sighed, conjuring flames in his palm to burn the letter. He didn’t stop Cerci; he wanted to know what Master thought, too. Moreover...

“Who sent the letter? Who tried to disturb the tranquility of the Prophet Sanctuary?”

“Oracle High Reverend...”

“Or the Pope?”

Virgil smiled bitterly. The letter had come at the right time. His mind was thrown into chaos.